


Even though you're dead...

by ign0miny



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Crack, M/M, Twincest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-24
Updated: 2020-06-24
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:00:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24890446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ign0miny/pseuds/ign0miny
Summary: George goes to Fred's grave a few days after his death. Even though Fred's dead, George still wants a piece of him.
Relationships: Fred Weasley/George Weasley
Comments: 9
Kudos: 31





	Even though you're dead...

**Author's Note:**

> :)

The car glides bumpily on the road, causing George to jiggle in his pants. The driver looks at him from the mirror and gives him a small smile. "How are you today, Mr. Weasley?" He asks, coming to a stop at the end of the road. 

"I'm fine, thank you. It's just been a rough day." And after a moment, George adds "And a rough year." 

The driver nods at George, as if he understands the type of year George has been through. "It's been a rough year for all of us here." 

George just nods, choosing to look out the window instead of continuing the conversation. The car starts to move again and George's destination comes into sight. The graveyard, which was dark and and gloomy, was up ahead. The car continued on the bumpy road until it came to a full stop at the entrance of the graveyard. "Stop here.." George tells the driver, holding out his hand in a stopping motion.

"Are ya sure mate?" He asks. "It's awful scary out here." 

George just nods, looking beside him to the grab the shovel he had brought alone with him. Once in his hands, he pulls out his wallet and tips the driver, nods at him again, and opens the car door and steps into the gloomy graveyard.

After a few seconds of walking, the car tires make a noise in harmony and then the sound becomes distant as the car goes back down the road it came. Already knowing his destination, George continues to walk in the direction he started in. He looks at the tombstones as he passes, wondering who is buried in them and how they died. 

The graveyard seemed to be becoming gloomier by the second, but George couldn't really bring himself to care. He had other matters on his mind. 

Finally reaching his destination, George bends down and looks at the grave at which he had stopped. 'Fred Weasley. 1978-1998' the tombstone read. Taking a moment to recollect his thoughts, George continues to stare at the tombstone for a few more moments. George stands back up, grabs the shovel he had brought with him, and stuck it in the ground. He ran his hands over the tombstone, and then kisses it once. Then twice. 

Then he gets a move on with his plan. Taking the shovel out of the ground, he starts to dig a hole where the coffin lay. Determination rules George's mind and body, and he starts to sweat as he works. Pile after pile of dirt starts to stack up behind George. He stinks- he can smell himself. 

He cant bring himself to care.

After long moments of digging, George finds his treasure. Wiping his grimy hands on his shirt, he reaches to the right of the coffin and opens it. 

The body, still fresh from just being put in there a few days ago, seems to shine at George. Thanks to magic, the body is still preserved perfectly. He still looks like he had just died a few minutes, if not seconds, ago. 

Leaning down, George runs a hand along his dear brother's face.

"Fred. Fred, Fred, Fred, Fred, Fred." He whispers to himself. "Brother. I miss you." He leans down even more, and presses a chaste kiss to his brother's cheek, and then moving over, to his brother's mouth. 

Becoming impatient, George takes off his belt and pulls down his jeans, kicking them off his legs and throwing them outside of the grave. He grabs Fred's dress pants and pulls them down, carelessly tossing them behind himself. For some reason, the people who had dressed Fred before he had died didn't put boxers on him, so he was naked, penis out. George ran a loving hand down the length, smiling to himself softly. 

'Mine. All mine.' He thought to himself.

Grabbing his boxers, he pulls them down and lets them bunch around his legs. Turning Fred over, he positions him to arch his back, and climbing into the coffin, he takes his cock and lines it up with Fred's arsehole. Thrusting a bit, the mushroom shaped head of his cock pops in Fred's arsehole, and George groans in delight. 

"Home sweet home" He says outloud. After collecting himself, he pulls back a bit and snaps his hips forwards, creating a rhythm. He continues this rhythm, snapping his hips and moving his upper body. He groans and moans loudly, not caring who sees or cares. He starts to go faster, thrusting into the arsehole as if Fred was his own personal slut and he was just using him as another hole to fuck.

Feeling his own orgasm rise, he goes even faster and finally he feels his release of his juices shoot deep into Fred. 

"Did you like that, babyboy?" He asks Fred. 

Fred, of course, doesn't answer. 

He imagines Fred looking back at him, with lust filled orbs and lowly saying "Yes Daddy. Always Daddy."

Suddenly, a loud ringing fills his ears and George stumbles back from the body, his cock popping out as he does and his juices start to flow out of Fred's body. He watches this with pleasure. The ringing, he identifies, is a siren.

A police siren. 

Before he can act, the police dogs come racing into the coffin and bite his penis off. He moans, loving the feeling of his penis being ripped from his sternum. The police dogs continue to lick his nipples and George has another orgasm from the dogs. He moans, and then he died. 

**Author's Note:**

> sam asked me to make this


End file.
